Ozai's Vengeance

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Summary: Twelve years after the final battle, Zuko summons Katara to help heal the victims of an epidemic spreading throughout the Fire Nation.

Disclaimer: ATLA is the property of VIACOM and Nickelodeon. No profit is made by this story.

Notes:

≅

Dull soreness radiated up Zuko's legs and arms the next day. It was a pleasantly familiar sensation: it seemed that most of his physical interaction with Katara --martial or otherwise -- meant stretching himself to his limits. Smiling without opening his eyes, he turned over and burrowed in closer. He slid an arm over her and molded himself around her body. His nose brushed soft leather. Katara had re-fastened the necklace. He kissed her neck and pulled her tighter.

Under the covers, she enlaced their fingers. "What are you smiling about?"

"Good morning to you too, Painted Lady."

"Quiet, you'll wake him."

Zuko blinked, pinched his nose, and propped himself up on an elbow. Kurzu lay beside Katara with legs and arms splayed in the cardinal directions. A warm feeling welled up in Zuko's chest. The utterly fragility of the moment struck him. Kurzu seemed so small. Katara was already fading back into sleep. This is mine to protect. I can't fail. Otherwise I'll become something I'm not. For some reason, he thought of Aang. You were a fool to reject this, Avatar. A great man and a greater friend, but a fool nonetheless. His hand came down and adjusted Kurzu's collar. The child was warm and alive under his fingers, like a messenger hawk awaiting a new scroll. Zuko pushed Katara's hair away from her face and examined it. Small bits of red paint still clung to her hairline. He wound a curl around one finger.

"What's wrong?" she murmured, eyes still closed.

Zuko settled down beside her. He made his voice a whisper. "Twelve years ago, if someone had told me I would spend even one morning waking up beside you and my adopted son, I would have pushed them off Appa's saddle."

"You were never an optimist."

"Not really, no."

She rolled over and met his eyes. "Were you really in love with me back then?"

"I thought so. I wanted to impress you. I've only ever wanted to impress the people closest to me." He traced the line of her necklace and played idly with the Water Tribe pendant. "I wanted you to forgive me."

"Meanwhile, I had very unladylike suspicions about you."

He rolled to his back. "That's all right. I had very ungentlemanly thoughts about you, too."

A pause, then Katara hove into his vision. Her eyebrow twitched. "What sort of ungentlemanly thoughts?"

"Thoughts unbefitting the crown prince of the Fire Nation." He smirked. "I was a young man, you know."

She sat up and crossed her arms. "A young pervert, you mean."

"I love when you cross your arms. I always have."

Katara looked down at herself, pinked, and uncrossed her arms. She leaned over him, each fist sinking into the pillows beside his head. "You never give up, do you?"

Zuko peered down her shift. "Not often."

"Hey. Eyes up here. What's gotten into you? We have a big day ahead!"

"I think it's the bending," he said, grabbing her hips and tugging her over him. She suppressed a little shriek in his neck. He rolled over so he had her pinned. She wriggled, lithe and strong and nimble as a dragon. "You don't know what your bending used to do to me. Honestly. You wouldn't have fought so hard if you did."

Her eyebrow arched. "Oh, really? And what should I have done instead?"

He murmured in her ear. "You should have let me save you from the pirates."

A little shiver went through her. He grinned. "Never," Katara said, and her breath trailed down the delicate skin of his good ear.

"That was the first time I touched a girl, you know," he said. He gripped a wrist and kissed its interior. "These wrists. You skin was so cold. You were shivering. I thought you must be sick."

"Didn't stop you from tying me to a tree, though," she said, her eyes locked onto the sight of him kissing into her palm, the ball of her hand. She still tasted of salt.

"Then later, under Ba Sing Se," he said, "these two little fingers," he kissed them, "touched me and I thought my heart had stopped."

Her hand came up to touch the scar. Her fingers gripped his hair. "I just wanted to help…"

"I would have given you anything," he said, looking into her clear eyes with his mismatched ones. "I was yours completely for just that moment. And it terrified me."

Comprehension dawned slowly on her features. "I didn't know…"

"And you kept that power over me later. You made me sweat. I couldn't lie to you. I hated it." He smiled. "So in my dreams, I had my revenge."

Katara grinned. "Let me guess. I was just some poor damsel in distress, and you had to save me with your special firebending powers?"

His face heating, he turned his attention to her neck. "You know me too well."

Katara arched up under him. "And I'll bet I was ever so grateful, wasn't I?"

He slid a hand up her shift. "Abundantly."

"You're filthy."

"Maybe you should help me clean up," he said, lifting her off the bed and carrying her toward the bathtub. Her legs curled around him -- he loved her heels digging into his back -- and they bumped into a wall, kissing, and there was the bathtub but first there was the floor, a pile of towels beneath and her over him as water thundered into the tub. Then later, there was her in his lap and the water swirling around them, her hair in his hands and the momentary glow that diminished their mutual soreness. And finally her almost asleep again, slumped against his chest in the water; he held her upright against him now: "You did save me."

Zuko laid his cheek on her damp hair. He had missed this profoundly. "I did? When?"

"You got the anti-venom for me, when the weasel-snake bit me. You just never said so." She elbowed him in the ribs. "Don't you know that's when you're supposed to take the credit so the girl can show her gratitude?"

"You wouldn't have thanked me. You would have scolded me for running off."

"Well, maybe, but you still should have said something." She yawned and pulled his arms tighter around herself, like the sleeves of a long coat. "Think of how different our lives could have been, if you'd just spoken up."

"Yes, you would have rejected me for good and I wouldn't have had this chance now."

"You don't know that for sure! And even if that did happen, maybe you would have moved on to someone better!"

"Sweetness, please. Let's be realistic."

Katara turned to face him. "I'm just saying that I think it would have changed things." She looked at the water. "I'm trying to say that I like this, and I wish we'd had it earlier."

"Which? The part where your relationship with me constantly endangers you, or the part where you browbeat me into accepting it?"

She flicked her wrist and a small wave came up to splash his face. "I like the sex, Zuko," she said, as though explaining things to a two-year-old. "And I like this part, too."

He spat. "The part where you get soap in my eyes?"

"The after-part! Stop being so difficult! I'm trying to say that I missed you!"

He leaned forward. "Come again?"

Katara hugged her knees and stared at the water. "I missed you." She scowled. "You don't have to look so smug about it."

"I'm not smug, I'm happy."

Her head tilted and she offered him one of her soft smiles, and a sigh. "I hope you hold on to that feeling," she said. "We have a fight to plan."

Zuko kissed her. "Tea first. Then strategy."

≅

They planned Tom-Tom's "training session" for the afternoon. At lunch, Katara asked the boy very sweetly to meet her on the training grounds, claiming that her bending was in disuse. (Toph had promptly suppressed a snicker.) In the meantime, Zuko debriefed both Iroh and Xiao Zhi. He met them in his office. Despite the matter at hand, Iroh could not contain his glee. He rocked on his heels as they waited for the captain of the guard.

"We missed you at breakfast this morning, nephew."

Zuko gave his uncle what he hoped was a quelling look. "I apologize, Uncle. I was busy."

Iroh's eyes danced. "Was Lady Katara similarly detained?"

If his smile had been happy earlier, it took a decidedly smug turn, now. "I'm sure she would tell you that's none of your business, Uncle."

"Did you at least get enough to eat? Some hot, dark, strong-"

"Uncle!"

"-tea can help start the day off right."

Zuko pinched the bridge of his nose. At that moment, Xiao Zhi strode into the room with her lieutenant. They saluted, and Zuko offered his own brief salute. His face hardened. "Tell me what you know."

Xiao Zhi held out another copy of the message left for Jun. "The insignia belongs to a group called the Funshutsu. They're less active in the capitol, but some of our friends have heard of them in the outlying areas, especially the ports."

"Why have they never been investigated before?"

"They have, by our local operatives. But until this point they have masqueraded as a type of social club. The Funshutsu seems to have begun as a charitable organization for veterans of the war and their families. Mostly, they advocate a return to traditional Fire Nation ways." Her deep-set eyes narrowed and the lines surrounding them deepened. "Whoever they are, they know how to avoid suspicion."

"Good deeds do not always mean good intentions," Iroh said. "How can they afford such charity?"

Xiao Zhi favored the old man with one of her rare, tight smiles. "It seems that each chapter has a founding member who is especially well-off. In Tetsushi, that man was-"

"-Tizo, the overseer," Zuko said, closing his eyes. He resisted the urge to let his face fall into his hands.

"Quite right, my Lord," Xiao Zhi said, clearing her throat.

"Tell me you've found him," Zuko said. "We dispatched agents. Where is he?"

"We have heard nothing about his or the agents' whereabouts, my Lord."

"You haven't heard anything? What, are you just waiting for them to contact you? Aren't they under explicit instructions to-"

"They are, my Lord," Xiao Zhi said in a soft, somber voice. Only her quiet tone betrayed her worry. "Our last dragon-hawk returned to us with message undelivered."

Zuko felt a pit of dread stretch open in his chest. This is really happening. It's not an isolated incident. They're making a move. And you don't even know who they are. He swallowed. "Have you discovered a central authority within the Funshutsu?"

"Not yet, my Lord."

Zuko just barely defied the temptation to blast his teapot into oblivion. As though reading his mind, Iroh quickly grabbed the pot and poured another cup. He directed his next question to Xiao Zhi. "What was their connection to Jun, or to Yun Zi?"

Zuko frowned and looked at his uncle. "How did you know about Yun Zi?"

Iroh smiled over the edge of his tea cup. "Like you, nephew, I had a rather busy morning."

He could take his uncle's statement one of two ways: first, that the old man had spent the early hours researching Xiao Zhi's reports; second, that he had enjoyed a morning not unlike Zuko's, wherein he quite literally pumped Xiao Zhi -- or a younger, sweeter court guard -- for information. Zuko chose to believe the former, if only for his own peace of mind. Xiao Zhi spoke: "One of our regular informants from within the pleasure quarter told us that she witnessed Yun Zi and the bounty hunter meet at least twice this week in the same location, a watering hole called the Blue Sparrowkeet. Each time, they disappeared into a wine cellar together."

His good eye narrowed. "What's down there?"

"Wine, or so says our informant."

"How trustworthy is the informant?"

"Exceptionally so. She's been ours since childhood."

Zuko winced. He hated the idea of children working for a living. He hated the idea of them working in the pleasure quarter of his capitol. He pinched the bridge of his nose and fought an unsettling wave of nausea. "Is she at least well-rewarded?"

"Quite well, my Lord."

He sighed. He steepled his fingers and prepared himself for what he had to say. "Yun Zi mentioned a failsafe. He spoke of a plan already in motion. He also brought Tom-Tom to this house, the night before my son fell ill -- an illness that Jun implied wasn't a coincidence." Zuko lifted his eyes. "If I send him from this house, will he run to the Funshutsu?"

"Not if he's got a shred of sense, my Lord."

"Can I send him from this house?"

Xiao Zhi's eyes flicked to Iroh. The old man sighed, but his posture remained firm. "His parents still hold some sway among the displaced governors," he said. "Yun Zi may have been using him as a puppet to gain your trust; they may use him again to turn public opinion against you. You must be cautious."

"Tell me something I don't know."

"My Lord, if I may," Xiao Zhi said, shifting weight, "we investigated Tom-Tom after you allowed him to stay in the house. The boy is impressionable. There is sentiment -- even here in the capitol -- that the Fire Nation should not forget what made it great." Her lips curled bitterly. "It is a beaten country licking its wounds. But there is a generation of boys who never knew the war as we did, and as such still believe in the glory of it. Tom-Tom is old enough to believe the tales and not the truth."

Zuko's fingers collapsed. His knuckles whitened as his hands clenched. "We'll know soon enough."

≅

He waited until Katara had Tom-Tom working up a sweat. He watched, hidden under the eave of his own roof, as Sokka, Toph, and Ling drifted gradually onto the sidelines, spreading a blanket and opening a bottle of wine as they watched the session. His trainers looked up to Zuko's position on the roof, took note of his signal, and departed silently. Under a hazy blue sky, Katara sent her water-whips straight for Tom-Tom's feet. The boy had improved his reflexes; he dodged around the whips now while still firing volleys of his own. He even ran straight for Katara, but she spread a sheet of ice under his feet and he slipped. Landing on his back, his legs twisted upward and he popped back onto his feet with a little blast of flame. Katara summoned a tide and pushed him backward. He fell again. Tom-Tom was still no match for her, and likely never would be. His attacks were far too conventional, his defenses still too weak. Zuko did not recall Mai's being a bending family of any note -- Tom-Tom might have had little access to the resources necessary for honing his gift.

Not that it would encourage any undeserved mercy on Zuko's part. He jumped from the roof to the wall and hopped down. He drew his swords. "Let's make it more interesting," he said.

Tom-Tom turned. "Where did you come from?"

"Sometimes you have to fight a war on two fronts," Zuko said, raising his blades. "Your fire against Katara's water and my swords. Let's go."

"Hey, wait-"

"Too slow," Katara said, knocking him off his feet with a slap of water. Tom-Tom stumbled forward in the sand, close to Zuko's blades. When Zuko kept them firm, the color in Tom-Tom's face drained away. He backed up, swallowed, and summoned two fire-whips. Zuko nodded at Katara, and they began their onslaught.

Tom-Tom fought well for someone so clearly outclassed. He swung his firewhips -- his desperation made them longer, wilder -- like a spinning top, seeking to put more distance between himself and his attackers. Katara quickly sent a jet of water his way, froze him in place, then borrowed some water from a nearby reflecting pool. She froze him from his toes to his neck. Zuko was oddly reminded of the crawling crystal in the caves under Ba Sing Se. Tom-Tom turned to Sokka and Toph, panic in his voice: "Help me!"

Lazily propped on her elbows, Toph turned to Sokka. "Hear something, Snoozles?"

"Not a thing," Sokka said, and stared at the sky.

Tom-Tom struggled to free himself. The ice holding him began to fracture. "Why are you doing this?"

"I thought you wanted to bend like a grown-up," Zuko said. "I thought you wanted to be a hero."

Tom-Tom burst free. He started running, dodging Katara's ice-arrows. "What are you talking about?"

Zuko brandished his swords. "I held back during the Agni Kai. Was that part of your plan? Did you think you could worm your way into my house by challenging me?"

"You're crazy!" Tom-Tom actually tried running behind Katara; she sent him riding an icy slide that deposited him back in Zuko's clutches. Zuko held Tom-Tom's neck delicately in the crux of his blades. Tom-Tom whimpered. "You're as crazy as your sister. Worse. I thought you were the sane one!"

Zuko tightened his grip on the blades. "It's so hard for me to be good," he said in Tom-Tom's ear. "I have to work very, very hard at it, and right now I'm very, very tired."

Tom-Tom surprised him with an elbow to the gut. Zuko released him out of reflex, and Tom-Tom began to run away toward the house. As he did, something bright descended upon him and he tripped almost comically. Zuko watched him struggle with invisible bonds. The boy was shrieking: "Get it off me! Get it off me!"

"Nice work, sugar," Toph said.

Zuko turned to Ling. Toph's lover stood with hands outstretched, plucking the air like a zither. Her shiny black hair, once long and full, now appeared short, with a tendril of hair to either side of her face and a glossy cap of it along her scalp. When Zuko squinted, he saw what had become of the long plait: it glistened in Ling's hands.

"That stuff," Sokka said, jerking a thumb at the wire, "is great for catching fish."

Katara stepped forward. "It's a net?"

"A net, a tripwire, a blade, whatever you like," Ling said calmly. "Shall I tighten my hold?"

"Not yet," Zuko said. "Your turn, Toph."

"Thought you'd never ask, Sparky."

Toph flexed her fingers, cracked her knuckles, and summoned a single giant fist from the earth beneath Tom-Tom's trembling body. She picked him up, net and all, and set him upright. Zuko sheathed his swords and crossed to the fist. Tom-Tom was sweating. "What is going on?" the boy asked.

"I'll ask the questions," Zuko said. "What is your connection to the Funshutsu?"

Confused disbelief crossed Tom-Tom's face. "The Funshutsu? Why would you-"

"Tell him, Tom-Tom," Katara said. "Make it easy on yourself."

"And don't bother lying," Toph said. The fist squeezed.

"I'll tell you!" Tom-Tom's eyes roved the group. "It's a group my parents belong to. It's a bunch of old people who talk about the war. That's how I met Yun Zi."

"Yun Zi's dead, Tom-Tom."

"What? How? When? What happened?"

Zuko gave only the barest hint of a smile. Real terror filled Tom-Tom's eyes. "You're insane-"

"Did Yun Zi send you here to kill me?"

Tom-Tom's mouth fell open. "What?"

"Yun Zi. The Funshutsu. Tetsushi. My child. They're all connected. Tell me how."

"I don't know how!"

Zuko looked to Toph. "He doesn't know," Toph said, shaking her head.

"You're sure."

"I'm sure. He's scared, but he's telling the truth. I've had a baseline on him for days now."

Zuko turned to Tom-Tom. He stepped forward so that they were mere inches apart. "Last night Yun Zi slashed the throat of a woman who implicated you in the poisoning of my son. Why would he do that if he had no secret to protect?"

"I don't know why he would kill anyone. He seemed like such a nice old man! He was friends with my parents!"

"For how long?" Katara asked, folding her arms and striding forward. "Before you were born? After?"

"After," Tom-Tom said. "It was after the war ended. I don't know how they met, but it was after the war."

"Where was Yun Zi from?"

"I don't know! He mentioned the colonies; that could be anywhere!"

Zuko sighed steam. His eyes lifted to meet Tom-Tom's. The boy's eyes were rimmed with sweat and tears. "I'm going to ask you this just once," he said. "And if you lie, you're done. Permanently."

Tom-Tom quailed. "All I've gotta do is squeeze, kid," Toph said softly. "Make this good."

Zuko hated how quiet his voice had gone. "Did you poison my son?"

Tom-Tom shook his head. "No!"

"Toph?"

"He's telling the truth."

"Are you here to kill me?"

"No! Of course not!"

"Still truthful," Toph said.

"Are you here to commit any acts of treason?"

Tom-Tom swallowed. "I promise I'm not," he said. When Zuko didn't withdraw, he started blathering. "Do I think some things are wrong with the Fire Nation? Yes. Am I angry that you care more about these heroes from another country than the boys in your own? Yes. But I would never stoop so low as to hurt a baby." He looked at the training field. "You know how lackluster a bender I am. Would anyone really trust me to take you out?"

"Got a point, there," Sokka said, examining his wine cup in the light.

Zuko looked to Toph. "Well?"

"He's telling the truth. A hundred percent." She shrugged. "Do I let him go, now?"

"Not yet." Zuko put his hand to Tom-Tom's damp face. The boy flinched away. "Do you understand that what has happened here is the fate of anyone who challenges this family?"

Tom-Tom shut his eyes. "Yes."

"Do you understand that this family includes you, and that anyone who threatens you will suffer the same or worse?" Tom-Tom's eyes opened, but he said nothing. Zuko shifted weight. Aang, if you're listening, please help. "Do you understand that if my life had been different, that if I had made different choices, if Ozai had made different choices, that your sister and I could have had a son almost your age, or adopted you ourselves?"

Tom-Tom looked away. "Mom and Dad say you never cared that much."

"They're wrong. Your sister did everything she could to make me happy. But my whole life changed the day I got this." He turned so that Tom-Tom could see the full scar. "I'm trying as hard as I possibly can not to become the man who did this to me. But every time I think of someone hurting you, my child, or this family, my resolve starts to weaken."

Tom-Tom's eyes popped. "And that gives you license to terrorize people?"

"No. But it reminds me of why I need you here -- to keep asking those questions." Zuko nodded at Toph. "Let him go."

The fist crumbled away to a mound of earth and stones, and with a snap the netting that surrounded Tom-Tom twisted in the air and returned to Ling's hands in a single black coil. Tom-Tom fell to his knees, shaking. He stared at Zuko's shoes. Zuko knelt down. He reached for the boy: "Don't touch me."

Zuko retracted his hand and pinched his nose. "I know you probably want to leave. You have every right. And if you want to go, I won't stop you. But I want you to think about just one thing, first." He swallowed. "When I challenged my father, he banished me. But when you challenged me, I invited you to stay." He gestured at the training ground. Katara's ice had already begun to melt. "Everyone here was once my enemy. Remember that."

He stood, nodded to the others, and left the grounds. Sokka, Toph, and Ling walked on ahead. Zuko caught part of the conversation: "So, uh, say you were building a playpen…"

They mounted the steps back to the house, but Katara strayed at the landing and watched her brother and friends go on ahead. Zuko turned. Katara's eyes had welled with tears. As she blinked, one of them rolled down her face. "What's wrong?" He looked to the training ground and Tom-Tom's still-kneeling form. "I tried not to hurt him-"

"I love you," Katara said in a rough but firm voice. Her blue eyes found his. "I think I really love you." She managed to look away. "I've been trying to-"

But he'd already pulled her to him. The kiss was softer than he'd intended it to be, and tasted of salt. A blaze of color lit inside him like two flames twisted about one another, like two dragons dancing. He held her face in his hands and kissed her forehead, leaned his own against it. "Marry me."

"What?"

"Today. Before dinner. Your family is here. My family is here. Sho can prepare the documents in an hour. There's nothing to stop us."

Katara backed away. "Nothing except the Funshutsu," she said. "And the orphanage, and the fact that I'm not Fire Nation or royalty, and my not having a necklace..." She counted each item off on her hand.

"My son is Water Tribe and his mother will be, too! And your necklace is in the vault!"

Her eyebrows rose. She folded her arms and gave him an appraising look. "Oh really, now? For how long?"

"Too long." Zuko reached for her hands. "Try to understand. I've wanted this for twelve years."

She squeezed his fingers. "Then you can wait a little longer." She tilted her head and pulled her hands free. "You do know that the necklace has to be handmade, right? That you have to make it yourself?"

He threw up his hands. "That's an ancient custom! This is a new era!" He leaned forward. "It's a beautiful necklace."

Katara shook her head and started walking toward the house. "You can't weasel your way out of this one, Sparky."

"It's huge! And blue! And absurdly valuable!"

Katara continued up the stairs. "No carving, no deal."

He ran after her. "Is this because I didn't kneel?" He leaned closer. "Because I can kneel, you know."

"Oh, I'm sure you will, later," Katara said, smiling fondly.

≅

When he returned to the office, Zuko found Iroh waiting. The old man did not seem pleased. "I hear you had an eventful afternoon, my nephew."

Zuko took a seat at his desk. "Yes."

"Is Mai's brother going to leave?"

Zuko's lips twitched. "I don't know. He's free to go if he wants."

"Toph tells me that you and Katara fought him together." Iroh's features settled into a disapproving glower. "I want your happiness as much as anyone can, but do not mistake shared tyranny for shared leadership."

Inside, Zuko felt a small part of himself go cold at his uncle's rebuke. But he kept his face impassive. "It was three bending masters," he said, "and a man who trained under Piandao himself. And you would have done no differently, if it were your son."

Iroh threw his cup of tea against the wall. It shattered and green liquid spewed everywhere. "You are my son!"

Zuko leapt to his feet. "Then you should understand!" He pointed out the door. "The Funshutsu targeted innocent people! Their own people! And then they attacked my agents and my son! They've got the upper hand and we have to do everything we can to stop them!"

"This isn't Ba Sing Se! You can't do things the way you want!" Iroh's breath came heavy. It steamed in the air. "You're not the Blue Spirit and you're not an exile. You are the Fire Lord. And you are forgetting the rules of engagement."

Despite himself, Zuko chuckled. It came out a little rough and sad. He looked down and spoke under his breath: "Is that why she said no?"

Iroh frowned. "What was that?"

Zuko looked up. "I asked Katara to marry me."

Iroh's posture changed entirely. He raised his arms to embrace Zuko. But Zuko put his hands up. "She refused."

His uncle, a courtly gentleman at the worst of times, cursed foully and spat fire. Little sparks died on the carpet. "Why?"

Zuko sat down heavily. His chair squeaked. He ran hands through his hair. "I don't know." He pinched his nose. "Maybe it's too soon. Maybe I was wrong to ask. But she's right about one thing: we need to dispose of the Funshutsu."

Iroh sighed. His hands found his sleeves. "Then we must dispose of your Minister of the Interior."

Zuko's mouth dropped open. "Jiang?"

Iroh nodded gravely. "He has kept his affiliation secret. But Xiao Zhi's agents report him entering the Blue Sparrowkeet shortly after a morning meeting between the Interior and the Minister of Culture."

Zuko frowned. The closeness of the Funshutsu to himself and his home terrified him, but Jiang's loyalties made sense. He had been the one to suggest that Katara bring her young firebenders back to the Fire Nation, as though the Southern Air Temple were inherently improper. That sounded like the sort of purist, nationalist thinking that the Funshutsu advocated. It also fit that he would attempt to influence the Minister of Culture, but Zuko rather doubted that it would work. Bei Liu was a brilliant historian with enough knowledge to rival Wong Shi Tong's library, but she was more than a trifle absent-minded. Any attempt at subtlety usually went over her head. "What did he want with Bei Liu?"

"More war memorials."

Zuko's good eye narrowed. "And Bei Liu's response?"

Iroh nodded toward the door. "Ask her yourself. I took the liberty of summoning her."

Zuko nodded, and Iroh opened the door. He murmured something, and Bei Liu tiptoed in. She was dressed in wrinkled, rust-colored robes and wore her hair in a messy bun with mismatched hair-sticks. She spoke in a rush: "My Lord, if the war memorial-"

"The eternal flame will continue to burn at the center of the city, Bei Liu," Zuko said. "I hope that you share that sentiment."

"Oh, I do, my Lord," she said. She chewed her lip and twisted her ink-stained hands. "I didn't immediately understand Minister Jiang's thoughts on more memorials, but if you think differently, please tell me."

"Memorials don't concern me, Bei Liu."

The woman looked a little hurt. "Culture concerns everyone, my Lord. And that includes the dull destinations for every school trip."

Zuko sighed. "That's true. What did Minister Jiang want? Something bigger? More expensive?"

"He didn't say, exactly," Bei Liu said. "It was a little strange. He kept trying to insinuate something, I think, but I felt that I didn't quite understand the joke."

"He behaved in an ungentlemanly fashion?" Iroh asked.

Bei Liu pinked. "No, not quite… He just kept asking me where I was during the war, what I thought of it, how I thought things had changed…" She frowned. "Then he started asking about dancing!"

"So he does have a passion for you," Iroh said.

The minister shook her head. "No, no, I don't think so. Although it's hard to tell, sometimes…" Her focus wandered, then snapped back into place. "He kept asking about how the standard curriculum has changed since the war, what we teach -- he called it 'revisionism' and said no one wanted to hear all that bad news, that it was bad for children's self-esteem as Fire Nation citizens." She leaned forward a little. "I'm afraid to say that he may be a bit senile, my Lord."

"Quite," Zuko said. "What did you tell him?"

"I told him I had a book to read."

Zuko smirked. "You are a credit to your country, as always. Don't worry about Jiang. I'll have a talk with him."

Again, Bei Lu bit her lip. "Oh, no, I haven't gotten him in trouble, have I?"

"That's his responsibility, not yours."

She nodded, bowed, and started to make her exit. "Oh, wait!" She dug into her sleeve and produced a scroll. She darted over and dropped it on Zuko's desk. "That might be helpful, my Lord. Good day."

Zuko stared after her retreating form, then reached for the scroll. It was flagged in one place with a red ribbon. "You appointed her, didn't you?"

"I knew her mother," Iroh said wistfully. "A woman whose cleverness was matched only by her beauty."

Zuko blinked. "Please tell me that Minister Bei Liu is not my cousin."

"Oh, no. I met her mother after Bei Liu was born."

Zuko winced, and sighed. He unfurled the scroll to the marked place and read the first few lines. His good eyebrow rose, and he felt a smile touch his face. Iroh tried to peer over the desk. "Did Bei Liu declare her undying love for you?"

"No," Zuko said. "She gave me a loophole." He lay the scroll flat. There, in the official calligraphy of the Fire Nation archives were the words: Regarding widowhood: A Fire Nation citizen may take to wife his kinsman's widow, provided he demonstrates apt means to support her and her children. If his kinsman has taken a war-bride in another country or colony, she and her children attain full citizenship upon marriage. Children born outside the Fire Nation or raised by war-brides may inherit properties and titles, provided they demonstrate satisfactory bending ability.

"Oh, that is very clever," Iroh said. "I knew she was the right one for the job."

"All this time, I thought I would have to adopt him myself," Zuko said.

"Given Katara's response to your suit, my nephew, do you think you will fare any better if you propose parenthood?"

Zuko rested his elbows on the desk. "That depends. What do you know about carving?"

≅

Zuko carried the scroll to dinner. He had intended to place it at Katara's seat for her to find, but most of the family had arrived -- with the exception of Tom-Tom. Zuko kissed Katara's cheek, gave her the scroll, nodded to Shizu and Kurzu, and found an empty chair beside Siida: "Did Tom-Tom leave?"

"No," the child said, blushing. "He's in his room, still. I asked him if he wanted to come, but he said he wasn't hungry."

Zuko smiled. "Then you should save him some dessert."

Siida grinned. "That's a great idea!"

Suki entered the room, Sora in tow. "Siida! There you are! I've been looking all over!" Suki put Sora down. "You're not to run ahead without me, young lady. The lieutenant never abandons her battalion."

"I was on a scouting mission for a good seat, Mom."

"A good seat? You're at the Fire Lord's table, with your family! There aren't any bad seats!"

"I wanted to sit with-" Siida blushed more deeply. "With Uncle Zuko!"

Sokka's children are too clever by half. "There's no accounting for taste," Zuko said to Suki. "It's fine. Take my place."

Now it was Suki's turn to blush. "Zuko, it's your chair, you're the-"

"It's the most comfortable chair, and you're carrying Kurzu's new cousin," he said. "Sit."

"It'll give us a chance to catch up," Katara said, as she stowed the scroll in her belt. "Didn't you go shopping with Iroh today?"

Suki sat, and the two women appeared to have plenty to talk about. Zuko turned to his niece. "You owe me one."

"I know," she said. She sighed and the breath disturbed her bangs. "But you already-"

Something warm and sharp poked Zuko in the ribs. He flinched and turned. Sora had stolen Saya's seat -- she stood wagging her finger at Senzo -- and poked Zuko again. "Are you really our uncle?"

Siida leaned over. "Sora!"

"It's a fair question," Zuko said. "I'm not related by blood to you."

"But neither was Uncle Aang."

"No. Aang was married to your aunt, and that made him your uncle."

Sora frowned. "So Aunt Katara married you and Uncle Aang?"

It took Zuko a moment to understand the logic of the three-year-old. In the meantime, Siida had tried to reach around Zuko's chair and slap her sister upside the head. Zuko waved her arm away. "No, Sora, your aunt only married Aang."

"Then how come you're our uncle?"

This could take a while. "Well, you see-"

A low, pained groan silenced the room. Zuko turned and Suki had pushed herself away from the table. She fell out of the chair. Saya shrieked: "Mom!" Sokka knocked his chair aside getting to his wife. He jumped straight over the table, his shoes making an imprint in the mashed pear-squash. Zuko saw him go pale beneath his beard.

"Katara, there's blood, why is there blood-"

"I don't know, I-"

"Don't touch the food!" Iroh was shouting.

Sora began to cry. "What's happening-"

Senzo stepped forward. "Dad-"

"Stay back, Senzo!"

"We need to get her out, I have to bend the blood back in or she'll lose-"

Siida's hand was on his sleeve. "Uncle Zuko…"

Zuko looked to Iroh. The old man was already issuing orders to the guards: Full lockdown, kitchen staff detained, no one leaves. Zuko took Siida's hand and picked up Sora with his other arm. "Girls, close your eyes and follow me." He looked over at Saya and Senzo. "Saya, take Kurzu. You and your brother come with us."

Sokka's eldest children continued staring at their mother lying prone on the floor. She moaned and curled into a ball, hands pressed between her knees. "Do as your uncle says, kids," Toph said. That seemed to startle them awake. They stared at her, now. The earthbender made fists and turned to Iroh. "Let's figure this out, old man. Ling, you're with me."

"Always," Ling said.

His breath shaky, Zuko pulled Siida from her chair. "Come on. Let's go."

"Why is Mama making that noise?" Sora whispered into Zuko's neck.

"Just don't look," Zuko said, leading the two girls around the table and the pool of blood spreading from Suki's twitching body. Siida stumbled after him, and he met Katara's eyes just he was leaving. She shook her head softly to him, then turned back to Suki. Sokka knelt beside his wife, stroking her hair. As Ling ushered Saya and Senzo through the door, Zuko saw Katara begin bending a ribbon of blood in the air.

≅

This chapter was very, very hard to write. And it's not over yet. Please leave some reviews! They'll make me feel a little less sad.